


No Time, No Place

by Literal_Sunshine



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Mild Language, Multiple Universes, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Relationship(s), Stucky - Freeform, Stucky MCU, Unrequited Love, almost a happy ending, mcu - Freeform, mild mild sexual content, not really comfort, probably out of character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 04:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18652792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literal_Sunshine/pseuds/Literal_Sunshine
Summary: In the wake of Captain America's death, Bucky Barnes is one of many in a nation of grievers. Steve Rogers was more than an idol to him; he was even more than a friend. Nothing ever happened, but it could have, Bucky thinks. Stephen Strange knows otherwise. Everyone around Bucky just wants him to be okay, and that's not going to happen if he keeps believing there was ever a chance with Steve.Dr. Strange takes Bucky to multiple different realities in which he and Steve didn't work out.





	No Time, No Place

It was peculiar for Strange have Bucky over for brunch.  
It wasn’t like they were close. Hell, they barely knew each other. The only interactions they ever really had were in battle or in the aftermath, neither of which was very fun. Unlike with T’challa or some of the others Bucky worked with, Strange and he never really talked, communicating pretty much exclusively on the pretext of conflict. Bucky knew very little about Strange, only that he could do magical things that Bucky did not understand in the slightest and that he used to be a surgeon before the whole magic thing became an option. And, for that matter, to Bucky’s knowledge, all that Strange knew about him was things anyone could find in a Buzzfeed “Top Ten Historical Figures that were Pretty Cool” article or in a museum, with his face among the best. In summary, Strange couldn’t really have known a damn thing about Bucky.  
Yet when Bucky absentmindedly walked through a portal into a magical precinct thing, Strange hardly looked up from the book he’d been reading. He spoke in the monotonous way he did: “Oh, you’re here.”  
Bucky glanced around. The walls were lined with books, glass artifacts protected by glass sitting precarious places around the room. Strange was sitting on a loveseat with his legs crossed, a picture of poise and elitism, with his book held out by one hand while the other laid dormant on the armrest. “Mind telling me what’s going on?” Bucky asked.  
“Don’t worry,” Strange said, a sort of groan to his voice as he stood, the type that could only be produced by a growing age, “the world isn’t ending this time. Well, not for most of us.”  
Bucky didn’t have to ask what Strange was talking about; he already knew how obvious he was, how he couldn’t seem to be really happy anymore. It was almost embarrassing knowing even Doctor Strange could see it. Bucky cleared his throat. “Why am I here?”  
Strange gestured to an area across from him, an area that had been destitute a moment before, now ordained with a lavish armchair and coffee table. “Sit.”  
Bucky sat. Strange continued. “I’m having you over for brunch. And then we’ll talk.”  
“Why?” Bucky asked.  
“‘Why?’” Strange repeated. “Because you’re a mess, James. We all can see that much.”  
“Bucky,” Bucky corrected.  
“James,” Strange said.  
Bucky leaned back in his chair. “I’m a mess. Why’d you think that?”  
“I dunno,” Strange said, mimicking Bucky’s posture and waving his fingers in his direction. “You’ve got that certain… well, aura. I can’t find a better word.”  
“‘Aura’?” Bucky asked. “You dragged me out here because my aura is funky?”  
Strange rolled his eyes back as if he felt like he was speaking to a brick wall. “It’s far worse than ‘funky’, as you so delicately put it. It’s straight-up grody. But we’ll get to that. What would you like to eat? Eggs and bacon? You strike me as an ‘eggs and bacon’ kind of guy.”  
Bucky, a little indignant both over the grodization of his aura and his accurate pegging as an eggs and bacon lover, looked around the room scowling, trying to find anything besides Strange’s face. After a few seconds, Bucky replied, “Sure, I guess.”  
Strange waved his hand and on the coffee table appeared a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon strips with a hot cup of coffee and another hot cup of what looked like chai tea. Bucky reached for the coffee. Strange stopped him, “Nuh-uh-uh. That’s for me. The tea is yours.”  
Bucky couldn’t imagine the coffee was any good for Strange, but he took his tea and took a tentative sip. It didn’t seem to be poisoned. He drank some more, and then he went for the eggs.  
Once Bucky was nearly done eating, Strange began talking again. “So, it really bothered you, huh?”  
Bucky didn’t need to ask, but he did anyway, his mouth half full of eggs. “What bothered me?”  
“The fact that Steve lived a life without you,” Strange stated the obvious, pressing his fingers against his near-empty coffee mug.  
Bucky swallowed. “But he didn’t. There was another Bucky in the version of reality where he lived out his days.”  
“There was,” Strange agreed, “but he wasn’t you.”  
“Why are we talking about this?” Bucky asked.  
“You’re a valuable asset to the team, James,” Strange said, “but you’re also a teammate. Everyone wants you to stay healthy, and you seem depressed lately.”  
“You haven’t seen me in half a year,” Bucky pointed out.  
“No,” Strange disagreed, putting down the mug. “You haven’t seen me.”  
“So, what?” Bucky said. “Is this some kind of intervention? You want to help me let go of the death of my best friend?”  
“It’s 2024, James,” Strange said casually. “We all know he was more than a friend to you.”  
Bucky didn’t respond. It was the first time anyone had ever said it out loud.  
“You think ‘If only he had stayed longer, we could have been together.’ The majority of you knows it’s ridiculous. But there’s a part of you that’s too desperate to let go. You blame it on circumstance. You still really believe the two of you were meant to be.”  
“Meant to be what?” Bucky snapped.  
“Do you want me to say it aloud?” the Doctor asked. Silence. “Great, well, then. James, I feel like it’s important for me to tell you that the two of you just weren’t written in the stars.”  
Bucky shook his head. “No.”  
“The longer you hold on to this thought that it could have been, the longer it’s going to take you to move on,” Strange said.  
“No. No, I don’t believe you.”  
Strange’s expression softened. “I knew you’d say that. Come with me. This is going to sting.”  
Strange stood (Bucky following suit), motioning with his fingers a circle. Before him appeared a sparking yellow portal to a bedroom that looked all too familiar to Bucky.  
They stepped into the room. It felt like a memory.  
“July 14th, 1932, Universe 203919. Hot as all get out. Do you remember this?”  
Bucky didn’t remember the exact date, but he remembered the summer. How warm it was. How his changing body was sweaty and how much he hated it. But also how much he loved Steve all the while.  
The door to the bedroom flung open. A young pair of boys, maybe early teens, stepped through the door, laughing and talking amongst themselves.  
“Got what he deserved, I think,” Steve, aged 12, was saying. “Bullies like him ought to get what’s coming to them.”  
Bucky, aged 12, agreed breathlessly, “Yeah.”  
Bucky watched silently, his eyebrows knitting.  
Young Bucky spoke again. “Really, if it was up to me, you should go to jail for that kind of thing.”  
Young Steve looked at him, confused. “You mean Mikey?”  
“Nah, I mean Jared,” Bucky said. “Nah, Mikey was in the right for putting Jared in his place like that. I mean Jared should go to jail for killing those birds.”  
Steve’s smile returned. “Oh, yeah. Look, you want to play cards?”  
Bucky nodded. He never did, but there wasn’t much to do in those days that didn’t involve trouble, and Bucky and Steve were good, two-shoed boys, for the most part. You know, other than the occasional fight or vandalism. And besides, Steve liked cards.  
They sat on the bed together and began paying War. Bucky put down a Jester; Steve, an ace. The game continued for a few minutes. Old Bucky looked over to Strange. “Why did you take me here?”  
Strange shushed him. “Just watch.”  
A few seconds later, Steve and Bucky flipped over their last cards. Steve had won.  
Steve smiled at Bucky. “I swear, you let me win.”  
“At War?” Bucky replied.  
“At everything.”  
“There’s some things I’ll never let you win at.”  
Steve smiled a smile too cocky for someone who weighed less than 90 pounds. “Oh, yeah? Like what?”  
Young Bucky shrugged nonchalantly. “Like love.”  
“Please,” Steve said. “You’ve never even kissed anyone.”  
“You neither,” Bucky retorted.  
“Yeah, well,” Steve said, shrugging his impossibly skinny shoulders, “at least I have the excuse of being ugly.”  
There was laughter for a few second before it died down, leaving the boys starting at each other with sparkling eyes. Young Bucky did what Old Bucky never could do, not even back then. He leaned forward and kissed Steve.  
It didn’t last more than five seconds before Steve pulled away with wild eyes, like an animal caught in a trap. Old Bucky’s heart broke in time with Young Bucky’s. Old Bucky had never tried to kiss Steve. He’d been spared the disappointment and humiliation of having been given that look.  
Young Bucky regained his composure quickly enough. “Here. That way, we’re still tied, and now both of us have been kissed.”  
Steve was silent for a second, processing, then laughed.  
Strange looked over at Old Bucky, staring at the scene in an emotion somewhere between sadness and disgust. “You did it, James. In this world, you took the plunge, and everything turned out the exact same in the end.”  
It took Bucky a few seconds to speak. “At least in this world, I got to kiss him. Even if it was just… once.”  
Strange nodded. “You’re not convinced. I understand.” A pause. “Here, let’s go. I have more things to show you.”  
Bucky nodded, not wanting to rip his eyes away from the scene with the boys. He followed Strange out into the precinct with his eyes still trained on a 12 year old Steve Rogers.  
They entered through another spark circle into another world again, this time in a cramped apartment from the 40’s. The walls were painted with pastel pink flower pots Steve and Bucky had never bothered to paint over. The wooden furniture was dingy, most of it second-hand. The space was hardly enough for Bucky to walk through, even at age 20. But it was home, and Bucky and Steve loved it.  
“Here,” Strange gestured to what Bucky knew to be their shared bedroom. It had two beds, one on either side of the room, very much distinguished from each other. The room brought up good memories. “August 24, 1940, Universe 184939. You remember?”  
“Yes,” Bucky said, running his hand against the wall as he walked towards the bedroom. “I remember.”  
He remembered because this was the day he got the closest to being with Steve Rogers. By the time they got to the bedroom, Steve and Bucky were already cuddling on Bucky’s bed, listening to the radio play music, just together, enjoying each other. Steve was tucked under Bucky’s arm, laying stomach-down on Bucky’s chest, breathing as well as he could in the dusty apartment. Bucky looked utterly content in every way.  
It was a moment before anything significant happened, but then the song changed and Steve puffed out a breath. “I like this song.”  
Bucky stirred. “Hmm? You do?”  
Steve chuckled, snuggling in closer. A pang went through Old Bucky’s heart. “Yeah. Know all the lyrics and everything.”  
“What’re you telling me, Stevie?” Bucky asked, scooting up to look at Steve. “You want to have a little jam or something?”  
Steve laughed again, this time pushing away from Bucky to stand. Bucky was suddenly much more awake and intent as Steve started dancing.  
It wasn’t good dancing by any metric, what with his skinny limbs hardly being able to keep up. But it was Steve, and that was what Bucky was watching. After a few seconds, Bucky stood, taking Steve by the arms and doing a dance along with him. Steve began to sing along with the words from the radio, his voice light and carefree. It was a moment later when the song changed once more, the time into a slow song.  
Old Bucky remembered this.  
Bucky stuck out a hand for Steve to grab onto. “As long as we’re up.”  
Steve looked at him for a moment, as if he was weighing the dangers of the situation. Old Bucky had defamiliarized that look with this situation and refamiliarized it with combat. It hurt to know that Steve thought of Bucky’s affection as much of a threat as a battlezone. Steve took Bucky’s hand and Bucky pulled him close.  
They gently swayed for a little while, perfectly at ease. Bucky’s hand trailed down Steve’s back. Steve visibly tensed. Ouch. But Bucky kept going. He reached a part of Steve’s lower back too intimate to be seen under the guise of friendship. Steve cleared his throat. “Bucky.”  
Old Bucky remembered this. The other Bucky had never experienced it enough to regret it. Steve repeated himself, “Bucky. I’m not a girl. You shouldn’t…”  
Old Bucky knew that after Steve had said that, he’d taken the hint and pulled his hand back up with a brief apology, and they had kept dancing. It was nice. But the other Bucky was just too caught up in the moment. He opened his eyes to look down at Steve and then he leaned down to kiss him.  
It lasted longer than it had when the two were twelve. This Bucky didn’t let go easily, and the gap between their physical statures had only increased over the years. Steve’s eyes were wide open, and it was clear he wasn’t kissing back. After a moment, he made a noise of protest, and then it seemed to sink in to Bucky what he was doing. Bucky let him go.  
Steve stumbled back, his hand over his lips. “What the Hell, Bucky?”  
“I’m sorry,” Bucky said, stumbling. His eyebrows were furrowed, his posture have shrunk back to about ½ of its original confidence. He looked like he was about to cry.  
“Bucky, I…” Steve started. Then he shifted backwards, his hand covering his eyes as if he didn’t want to be seen. “What were you thinking?”  
“I wasn’t,” Bucky said. “It was a one-time thing, Stevie. I’m so sorry. I just got caught up in the moment and that’s what I would do if you were a girl, so it was just like, I dunno, muscle memory? Look—”  
“Bull,” Steve said, taking away his hand to look Bucky straight in the eyes with contempt. “That’s utter bull.”  
Silence. “I’m sorry, Steve.”  
Silence. “I think I should move out.”  
Silence. “Where would you go?”  
Silence. “I don’t know. This isn’t the first time you’ve done stuff like this.”  
“But it’s the first time I accidentally kissed you,” Bucky said.  
“Bucky, I’ve known you for years. You can’t lie to me. That was no accident,” Steve said, his voice quiet. “I can’t… I love you, Bucky, but… not like that. I love you too much to lead you on.”  
Bucky shook his head. “Don’t. Don’t leave. It will never happen again. I promise.”  
“I believe you,” Steve said. He looked less on edge now, more sympathetic. Old Bucky resisted the urge to avert his eyes. “I know if I stayed you’d never do it again. But I can’t let you live like this.”  
“It’s fine,” Bucky pleaded quietly. “I’ll be fine. Just stay.”  
“No, Bucky,” Steve said. He gave a pause. “This is going to hit me even more than it hurts you. But I… I’ll still be your best friend. Just not your roommate. That’ll be the only difference.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “If I’m not here, you’ll be able to find a gal you love. Settle down. We’ll still be friends.”  
“Steve…” Bucky said.  
Steve left the room. Old Bucky wanted to cry. The other Bucky already was.  
Strange spoke at last, “Things turn out the same in this universe. Everything’s the same except there’s tension between the two of you forever. When you break out of being the Winter Soldier in this reality, you puch Steve one more time. And then you save him from the river.”  
Bucky shook his head. “No. No. Stop showing me this. I don’t want to see this.”  
“I don’t think you truly understand yet,” Strange said. “C’mon.”  
“Not more. No more,” Bucky said.  
Strange grabbed him by shoulder and took him through the portal back into their own dimension. The world seemed even grayer than before.  
Strange opened a new portal. The new portal lead to a camp. Bucky recognized it as one of the bases for a Howling Commandos mission. He didn’t want to see whatever was coming. It happened too fast, across a grove and across the tents for Bucky to truly take it in. Steve was reading papers, now buff and beautiful, standing alone. Another Bucky came up beside him, hugging him from behind, kissing his neck. Steve, obviously not realizing who it was, jerked up, dropping his papers and grabbing his gun. With a swift shove of the elbow, Bucky was on the ground, and a second later, he was dead with a bullet hole in his forehead.  
Strange began, “October 1944, Universe 134038. You—”  
“No,” Bucky said quietly. His vision blurred. “No, he… he wouldn’t do that to me.”  
“It was an accident,” Strange said. “He didn’t mean to kill you. You can tell.”  
Bucky tried to focus his vision on the distant figures. Steve was kneeling over Bucky’s body as an undignified form, afraid and upset. He frantically waved over what seemed like medics to treat the body. Yeah, it was obvious he regretted it. But that was all it took. A badly-timed embrace and Bucky was dead.  
Strange reached over to grab Bucky’s shoulder. He was saying something, but the words were lost in the air. Bucky knew what was happening. He’d been in shock before, but this was unlike that. It wasn’t physical shock this time; it was emotional shock, and it was much, much worse.  
He turned and went through the portal silently. This time, there was no pit-stop back at the precinct. They strayed straight into another scene, one full of light and sound. Bucky knew this day. It was just before he was scheduled to be deployed. It was a bachelor’s party ordeal between him and Steve, visiting a futuristic Stark expo.  
“I figured you could live to see something happier. Almost, at least,” Strange said. His voice was still too harsh for Bucky’s liking, but that was because he was used to Steve. Steve, gentle, loving to everyone. Strange was different. “You know the date.”  
“I do.” Bucky nodded. His eyes closed tightly. When they reopened, the world was clearer. Steve and another Bucky were existing an enlisting station, with Bucky slapping Steve around the ears for thinking he could go out in battle.  
“This is the universe where you make a bit more of a compelling argument,” Strange said.  
Across the crowds of people, Steve and Bucky stopped, talking. They were standing close together. That was true of Bucky’s own world. But instead of just hugging Steve walking off like he had, Bucky stepped closer to Steve and kissed him. Once. It didn’t linger. No one in the crowd surrounding them had seen, not even the ladies Bucky was taking dancing. Steve didn’t say anything as Bucky walked off. Instead, he stared at Bucky as he left, his fingers pressed against his lips, like a softer version of the apartment scene from earlier.  
“He doesn’t enlist,” Strange said. “Captain America was never made.”  
He dragged his finger from the right to the left, as if fast forwarding. “The Allies still won the war, if with more casualties. Including Sergeant James Barnes.”  
The scene shifted to outside Bucky and Steve’s shared apartment. Steve cried in the open doorway, looking down at a letter in his hands. He was silent but visibly sobbing, as if he was on mute. Bucky stood in deafening silence, watching the person he loved most in all the world mourning him.  
“But,” Strange said, “you know the difference between Steve and you?”  
Bucky looked at him, his head swaying. “Don’t say it. Please.”  
“He managed to get over it,” Strange said. “Met a lovely woman named Mary. Got hitched. In this reality, he loved you, but you can see… it doesn’t matter. You weren’t meant to be together.”  
Bucky shook his head more adamantly. “No. There has be a different place, a different time… one where we could have been together.”  
“I’m glad you mention it,” Strange said. “Come on.”  
Again, it was hard for Bucky to look away from Steve, his disheveled hair, his hunched figure. It took all of his will power and sanity not to go over and try to comfort a man he knew couldn’t see him and, more importantly, a man he knew would move on. But he didn’t. And he looked away and followed Strange through the portal.  
They were in a wartime camp, full of life and hurt, but looking around, Bucky couldn’t find himself or Steve. Strange coughed into his fist. “Universe 10498. You’re in the third tent down. I think it would be, uh, intrusive for me to follow you.”  
Bucky nodded, his heart speeding up. He made his way to the tent, pulling away the canvas to step inside. He and Steve were together, sitting on a cott, kissing tenderly. This time, it was mutual. This time, it lasted.  
Steve pulled away, but his expression wasn’t one of disgust or pity or anything like it. “Why’d you do that?”  
Bucky of the other reality cleared his throat. “I’d rather not explain.”  
Steve took a second to speak. “It was good. I liked it.”  
“Are you sure?” Bucky asked.  
“Yes,” Steve reassured. “I don’t know why. But I liked it.” He leaned in for a second kiss. Bucky could see the kiss intensive, getting more and more intimate. This was not a friendly gesture on either part.  
Bucky left the tent after his alternate reality self began to unbuckle his belt. Strange was waiting just outside the door. “They’re friendly with each other, aren’t they?”  
“Yeah,” Bucky agreed.  
“Well,” Strange continued, waving his fingers to fast-forward again, “that did help a lot in combat. You two never got seperated on that train. You were standing too close.” Bucky closed his eyes as tightly as he could, trying to imagine the scene. The world was still flying by; Strange hadn’t found the moment to stop on yet. “So you never died, and the whole Antarctica incident didn’t occur, seeing as you were there to help Steve and be his voice of reason. Which leaves us here.” He stopped. It was a house, one Bucky didn’t recognize. Steve was pacing back and forth across what seemed like a parlor.  
“I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up,” Steve admitted.  
Bucky was sat in a couch, watching Steve pace. “Look, Steve, it’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. We always are.”  
Steve shook his head. “No. It’s been too good…”  
Bucky stood up to stop him in his tracks with an embrace. “There’s not always another shoe, Steve.”  
“He’s right,” Strange said. His eyes were fixated on the scene. “There wasn’t another shoe.”  
Steve kissed Bucky for a moment, the pulled away, regret in his eyes. “No. I’ve done so much to disappoint my mother, to dishonor her memory.”  
“Am I dishonoring her memory?” Bucky asked, trying to keep Steve’s eyes.  
“No, that’s not…” Steve pressed his fingers against his forehead. “That’s not it at all. But I just… I want kids, you know? I want to be married, all proper and everything.”  
“We can be married,” Bucky said. “You’re Captain America, in case you forgot. If you endorse, the public will buy into it. They loved you advocating for war.”  
“This,” Steve pulled away from the hug, “this is different. I can’t get people to change their minds so quickly.”  
“Then let’s just wait it out,” Bucky said. “It’ll happen one day.”  
“Too long,” Steve said. “Too Goddamn long.”  
Bucky touched Steve’s chest. “Listen, it’s all going to be okay.”  
“No, Buck, it won’t.” There was such a terrible sadness in Steve’s eyes. It was obvious what was about to happen. “I love you too much to hold on much longer.”  
“Steve,” Bucky said.  
“You can keep the house,” Steve said, putting a hand against Bucky’s, still rested on his chest. “I have money. I can buy another one.”  
“Steve, you can’t,” Bucky said.  
“It’s okay,” Steve said. “I’ll get a place down the street. We can both get married— to women— have a few kids who can play together. We can be together, but… not.”  
“You’re afraid,” Bucky said. “You’re too damn afraid. Battle didn’t scare you nearly this much.”  
“I am, Bucky.” Steve pressed his head against Bucky’s. “I’m so sorry. I love you so much.”  
Bucky spoke, his voice low, “When are you gonna leave?”  
“Soon,” Steve said. “Soon.”  
Strange turned to Bucky. “Do you understand yet?”  
Bucky nodded.  
“We have one more stop before we go back,” Strange said. “You coming?”  
The scene before Bucky was paused, Steve pressing their heads together, silent, waiting, loving, terrible. Bucky could feel himself begin to cry. “Yes, I’m coming.”  
He turned away and stepped through the portal. This time, the surroundings were entirely blank, white and blinding. It took Bucky’s eyes a moment to readjust. When the picture before him became clear, he thought he was hallucinating. Bucky could pick out Steve’s bodyline out from a line-up, even when he was facing away. He had recognized Steve even as an old man, and here he was, back in his familiar, muscular body, young, with blonde hair, wearing a white T-shirt. Upon hearing the other two men enter, Steve turned around. This time, he could hear. Bucky suddenly knew he was no longer a bystander watching an alternate reality progress; he was an active participant in a conversation.  
Steve smile widely. “Buck.” He walked forward to give Bucky a hug. Bucky accepted. He smelled the same way he always did, of cheap shampoo and the essential oils his mom used to think would cure his illnesses. Bucky soaked it in.  
Strange began before the embrace was even finished. “I summoned his essence here to talk to you.” Bucky could see his weight shift out of the corner of his eye. “You are effectively talking to Steve’s ghost.”  
Bucky gently pushed Steve away. “How much do you know?”  
Steve shrugged. “Only a little bit more than I did when I was alive. I see more, Bucky, but I’ve known you since we were young.”  
“So you know what I’m here for,” Bucky said.  
Steve nodded. “I’m sorry, Bucky. I would say ‘Maybe in another life,’ but I think Dr. Strange here has proved that point null to you by this point.”  
Bucky nodded, his eyes tearing up.  
“Buck,” Steve said, taking Bucky’s hands, “you know what I want you to do. You know what I need you to do.”  
“I can’t just move on, Steve,” Bucky said. “I just can’t. You can’t start ignoring a love for someone that’s lasted 100 years.”  
“I know it’s not easy,” Steve said, “but it’s what I’m asking you to do.”  
“That’s not fair,” Bucky said. “You had your chance with Peggy. You got a second chance.”  
“Yes, but Peggy loved me back,” Steve said. That hurt. “Let it go. Love someone else.”  
“You know,” Bucky said, “in all of these realities, you have a knack for leaving me.”  
Steve smiled. “I’ll never leave you. In this reality, it’s all on you to leave me.”  
They stayed in comfortable silence for a few seconds.  
Bucky looked at Steve straight in the eyes. “Can I kiss you? Just this once?”  
Steve smile again, and he hugged Bucky. As he pulled away, he kissed Bucky on the cheek. “I love you, Bucky.”  
“Not enough,” Bucky said. The tears were coming back.  
“Enough,” Steve said. “Enough not to let you spend the rest of your life like this.”  
Bucky shook his head, stifling a sad laugh. “I love you so much.”  
“I know,” Steve said. “It’s not time to say goodbye yet. I’ll still be around. When you’re ready to let me go, you tell me, okay?”  
“All right.”  
“You say, ‘Goodbye, Steve.’ Will you do that for me?”  
“I’d do anything for you,” Bucky said.  
“I love you, jerk.”  
“Punk,” Bucky retorted, wiping the tears away from his eyes, not wanting to make eye contact. He turned around and left through the portal, Strange following in his footsteps.  
The precinct felt homey, much more homey than any of the other homes Bucky had seen. His chamomile tea from earlier was still on the table, untouched by the tragedies that Bucky had witnessed. Sunlight streamed in through stained glass windows. Bucky, emotionally exhausted, made way for the armchair. He sat, and Strange sat across from him.  
Strange crossed his legs again. “You good?”  
“Yeah,” Bucky said. “That was a lot to process.”  
Strange nodded. His normal quips seemed lackluster today, like he was too tired to joke around. “You’ll need time. Time more than even I can imagine.”  
“Yes,” Bucky said. “I think it’ll be better now.”  
“Keep your mind in the present, James,” Strange said. “The present or the future. Whatever. Just not the past. There’s nothing you can do.”  
“I know,” Bucky said quietly. “It’ll sink in soon enough.”  
“Right, then,” Strange said. “I can whip you up another portal to get back to… wherever you were before.”  
Bucky disagreed, “No, I think I’ll stay here for just a little bit.”  
Strange nodded. “I understand. Take your time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! I really hope you enjoyed this! This is my first time publishing a fanfic since 2017 (on Wattpad), which feels like a really long time ago. If you notice anything wrong, feel free to comment; I didn't get any beta readers for this one, so I briefly looked it over using Hemmingway Editor. Anyway, I'm really sorry if this was sad! Leave your thoughts in the comments below. Have a lovely day!


End file.
